A friend of mine (cam) challenged me tonight, indicating that I wasn’t emotionally available. I was whining about women, as I often do, lamenting about how I always seem to be really attracted to the ones that aren’t emotionally present.
It’s got me kinduv in a funk. I suppose I’m debating whether she’s right or not.
Her perception definitely isn’t spot-on — I know that, because I corrected her just tonight when she insinuated that I don’t listen or care to what a date says. (I do, more even, usually, then my date cares herself.)
Still. I know my walls are up, that my baggage is dragging along back there somewhere behind me, but I think that’s a far cry from emotionally unavailable.
Then again, it’s what I whine about the most — that and not being appreciated. Heck, it’s the only thing I whine about. Have I been looking in the mirror?
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Tonight was just weird all around. There were three Canadians at our table at Jupiter — all married with 2-3 kids, all in their 30s.
All of us (except me at 29) were in our 30s too. No kids, no marriages, no likely targets (although, perhaps, an occasional hopeful fantasy). Just walls, friends, and beer. And a life full of selfish hobbies, I suppose.
Sigh. Is falling in love in the bay area really that hard? Or do we all just happen to hang out at the same table in Berkeley?
(yes)
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